Me, Myself, and Q
by uhpockuhlipz
Summary: A series of Faberry oneshots... I only do Faberry on request, so these will be rare. There will  ALWAYS be side Brittana
1. Tastes Like Pink

**Faberry fic attempt number one. I don't think I'm that great at Faberry, but meh. These are all plot requests, so. If anyone happens to have a plot request (Brittana or Faberry), feel free. **

**Description: What on Earth had Quinn done to her hair? Rachel Berry wanted to know.**

Rachel Berry had once declared (drunkenly, mind you) that wine coolers taste like pink. It wasn't a declaration she regretted, necessarily - if pink had a taste, maybe it did in fact taste like wine coolers - but she had always hated stating a thesis without having viable data to back it up. After all, how does one _taste_pink? The question has haunted her since that night. Rachel Berry was a performer, not a scientist, but it was always best to have proof of one's hypotheses if one is to take it from question form to statement form. Honesty was the sincerest form of avoiding bad publicity, after all. Yet it seemed she would unfortunately have to forgo her research, writing off 'it tastes like pink' as nothing more than a drunken, silly phrase of little to no logical value. Annoying, but Rachel believed it the only option.

Until she saw Quinn Fabray's triumphant return to William McKinley High School's hallowed halls.

The blonde - once-blonde - walked as if she owned every chipped tile of the school's narrow hallways. The new look she sported was not at all like her, and yet the black suited her incredibly well. Especially paired with the vibrant pink of her hair. She wore a single, long earring and an abundance of necklaces (was that an inverted cross?), heeled boots, and a blackskirt that highlighted every glorious (wait, glorious? Did she just think the word 'glorious' in connection to Quinn Fabray?) inch of her legs. It was a shock, to say the least, seeing the wholesome Quinn Fabray dressed like some sort of… some sort of hooligan (however lovely the style made her appear). It wasn't the Quinn she knew and Rachel was not certain if she approved. As the slightly taller girl moved to pass her, Rachel reached out a hand. "Quinn," she mumbled uncertainly, head cocking slightly as she moved closer. Her dark eyes couldn't help but skim down and up the length of her black-clad frame before meeting amused hazel eyes. Not the good kind of amused, either- the kind that took Rachel Berry back to the days of her torment.

"Do you mind, hobbit?" she sneered with a smirk, taking a step forward, and another, until she stood toe to toe with the brunette. She stared down into Rachel's nervous eyes and the brunette couldn't help but notice the smell of smoke that clung to her new wardrobe. It didn't smell like cigarettes- rather, it was the scent of campfires as she recalled from her early years at her Jewish sleep-away camps. Rachel prided herself on her excellent sensory recall. She would know that smell anywhere. Still, she couldn't bring herself to say anything with Quinn standing so close, with her eyes so hard and callous as they bore into hers. Beneath it all, she caught a whiff of perfume, something light and flowery and very much suited to the old Quinn, but so far buried beneath the layers of unfamiliar scent that she didn't know if she'd imagined it or not. "You're in my way. I'd_hate_to be late for homeroom." She stared for another minute down at the shaking diva before spinning on her heel, sauntering off with that same hip-swaying gait of before. Rachel watched, confused by (and perhaps a bit fascinated with) Quinn's abrupt transformation.

Throughout the day, she only caught glimpses of the other girl. It wasn't until glee that a flash of pink caught her attention again. The once wholesome ex-Cheerio sauntered with that same lazy gait through the door of the choir room, moving to take a seat near the back. Rachel opened her mouth to speak to her, to ask her about the changes she'd undergone, but Schue came racing in moments after looking distraught. "I'm sorry to tell you this, kids, but we're going to have to sing a capella for a while. It seems some prankster stole our piano and lit it on fire in the courtyard. There was a collective gasp from the group, followed by murmurs of confusion and speculation. Rachel sat speechless, her mouth agape. On fire? But… She looked over her shoulder, studied the still, calm features of one Quinn Fabray. Of the group, she was the one who seemed least surprised- that is to say, not surprised at all. She didn't make any accusations (because she didn't like unproved theories, Rachel tried to tell herself), but she suspected. After Glee, she tried to stop Quinn to ask, but Finn delayed her with some inane question about the assignment. Couldn't he see she was in a hurry? God, he could be so selfish sometimes. Eventually she excused herself, tearing out of the choir room in the direction of the exit.

And outside of the double doors was Quinn Fabray in all of her pink-haired glory… but she wasn't alone. And she didn't look lonely. Her hands were on the waist of an unfamiliar brunette girl clad in leather straddling a rather aggressive looking motorcycle. The other girl's hair was just a bit longer than Quinn's, cut in a shaggy style and highlighted in electric blue. Rachel would have been generous enough to call her pretty, had she been able to see much of her face. As it was, however, their lips were fused together and their hands were wandering and Rachel couldn't see much except the green haze of jealousy, which faded quickly into red fury when the strange girl's hands squeezed the rounded buttocks of one very cat-that-got-the-canary looking Q. Fabray. They pulled back with an audible smack of lips and it was then that the new girl (who was, damn her, quite beautiful) noticed the shaking brunette stood about twenty feet from them looking on. Quinn followed her gaze, surprise morphing her features before the bitchy smirk returned. Slowly she moved towards Rachel, walking closer and closer until she invaded her personal space once more.

"Like what you see, RuPaul?" she breathed, leaning in so close to Rachel's face that the heat of her breath was felt along the shorter girl's lips. She shuddered and remained mute, eyes glued to cruel hazel. "Well that's too damned bad. I gave you your chance before - this summer, a freaking month ago - and you blew me off for Finn." Something like hurt flashed in her eyes before it was masked again. "You're missing out." She leaned down suddenly, forced her lips onto Rachel's in a punishing kiss that overloaded the brunette's sensory memory. There were so many feelings and flavors and… She didn't know what to do. Before she could even respond, Quinn was pulling away again, laughing with the blue-haired biker whose bike she then straddled. Her arms wrapped around her waist - hands sliding under the other girl's shirt instead of over it, Rachel noted numbly - and then they were off, disappearing. Rachel stared after them for a long moment before whirling back towards the school to find some place to hide for a while so she could cry. A yelp of surprise escaped when she turned to find Brittany almost directly behind her, blue eyes curious as they studied the tiny, trembling diva.

"Did she taste like pink?" the taller girl asked, and slowly Rachel nodded. Her eyes filled and Brittany took her hand, fingers squeezing in gentle support. "What does pink taste like then, Rachel?"

"Missed opportunities," Rachel replied brokenly. "Broken dreams." The dancer drew her into a hug.

"Santana tasted like pink," she claimed quietly, and Rachel didn't even have the energy to be surprised that Brittany knew what Santana tasted like at all. "But then she told me she loved me and she tasted more like… like blue."

"What does blue taste like?" Rachel whispered, her face pressed to Brittany's front. The blonde girl ran a hand down Rachel's hair and smiled faintly, eyes distant as she thought it over.

"Like hope."


	2. Me, Myself, and Q

**Faberry fic #2… **

**Description: God had abandoned Quinn Fabray. He'd left her alone with nothing. Without popularity, without hope, without love. What would it take to have hope and faith again?**

Quinn Fabray had a habit of changing herself when who she was no longer worked. First she'd gone from being Lucy Quinn Fabray to just… Quinn Fabray. That had worked well for her for years. Beauty, she realized, only worked in your favor if it was on the outside. So Quinn Fabray had come into existence, the gorgeous blonde cheerleader with a strong love for the God who had granted her every single thing she'd ever wanted in life. Popularity, good looks, a boyfriend, captaincy for the Cheerios… God was good to Quinn Fabray as he had never been for Lucy. Or at least, she had thought so.

Until Beth.

A lot of people seemed to think that thoughts of the baby she'd given up made her sad or filled her with regret, and that's why she didn't talk about her. But no. No, that wasn't it. The only thing Quinn Fabray felt when she thought of Beth was anger. The only feeling she had not having her was relief. Not that Quinn hated that baby- because she didn't. She didn't feel much for her at all. The one she hated was _God. _God had done this to her, had ruined everything she'd built up. God had taken everything from her. Puck, Finn, Sam. Brittany and Santana. Beth. Her popularity. When she lost prom queen, something in her snapped. When she lost Finn, the broken halves crumbled and her faith had diminished. Where was God? Why had He been so cruel?

So, Quinn Fabray had changed again.

Senior year was the debut of Q Fabray. Just Q- Quinn no longer existed. Q Fabray didn't give a shit about things like popularity. She didn't care how people saw her or if they thought she was pretty or wholesome or pure. She didn't care about mundane things like _love. _And she _hated _God. She dyed her hair pink because she liked the color pink and to hell what anyone else thought. She wore the inverted cross because she wanted to rub it in His face that she didn't want or need Him anymore. She wore black because it seemed like the color to wear when you didn't care if people paid attention anymore (or if you secretly wanted people to notice how much you'd changed). She fell in with people she had no business falling in with, she smoked, she drank, she… had sex. Sex, she'd discovered, was fun when your inhibitions melted away. When it no longer mattered who your partner was- popular, smart, going somewhere… male. All of those qualifications stopped mattering.

The first girl she slept with was a blue-haired motorcycle rider named Monica. She was gorgeous and badass and exactly the type of person Quinn's – Q's – parents would disapprove of. She was actually pretty nice (something one might not expect from a person who looked like her) and she was… _really _good with her hands. They spent a lot of time together and the sex was easy, no strings- and it wasn't going to get her knocked up. Win-win. And when she went back to McKinley, which Monica didn't attend, they'd tried to keep up with the whole thing. But there was no love on either side, and though they were friends still, they didn't care enough about keeping up a relationship to maintain it. Friends with occasional benefits suited them- and Q Fabray didn't care. She could do affairs. She could do friends with benefits. _Love _was for people who believed in it.

She sat outside the school during second period math, her back pressed to the wall of the building in the little space between the language classrooms and the gymnasium. It was a private place where she wouldn't be bothered- a place she knew about because she'd once returned to the Spanish three classroom junior year for a book she'd left behind and spotted Santana and Brittany locked together just outside the window. A moment later the two had slid down the wall and disappeared on the ground below, much to an embarrassed Quinn's surprise. It must have been super private if the supposedly 'straight as a board' Santana Lopez was making out with her best friend there.

So that's where Q smoked, since Brittany and Santana no longer needed the privacy. They were dating and in love, after all. Q snorted out a laugh. _In love. _What bull. Well, best of luck to them. If anyone deserved the elusive and pretty much nonexistent emotion, it was those two. _I'll just chill here alone. _Q didn't mind. No, not at all. She didn't need love or friends or any of that shit. She didn't need her dreams to come true. There were a lot of things Quinn had prayed to God for in the passing years that Q didn't care about now. There was only one dream that lingered, but it was impossible and so she pushed it to the far back of her mind where Lucy and Quinn were both locked up.

"Quinn, that is extremely bad for your health." Slowly Quinn looked up, hazel eyes skirting over to the tiny brunette now standing at the mouth of the nook's entrance. There it was, the one thing she'd wanted and finally confessed to wanting a month before the start of school. Rachel Berry. She let a cold smirk curve her lips, deliberately bringing the slim black cigarette to her lips again for another drag. As she did so, Rachel came forward slowly, eyes locked with distaste on the cigarette perched between the once-blonde's lips. Q deliberately blew the cloud of scented smoke in her direction and watched her nose wrinkle. "Must you do that? Ruining the future career you could obtain with your vocal abilities is one thing, but please don't sabotage mine." When Q still said nothing, only continued smoking, she made a frustrated sound and stepped forward. Her fingers plucked the cigarette from Quinn's fingers and tossed it down while the taller girl stared in surprise at her.

"What do you think you're doing, Yentl?" she snapped coldly. The last time they'd talked had been a month before when the smaller girl had tried to confront her, only for Q to act someone cruel and kiss her- hard. Time had passed and they hadn't said a word- and now here she was, stomping out Q's cigarette with a deliberate smile on her face. She turned suddenly and stepped into the pink-haired girl's personal bubble, her hands reaching out to grip hers.

"Quinn-"

"Q," she snapped, her temper slipping a bit.

"Quinn." Her expression was firmly set. "I must tell you, I think you're doing yourself a great disfavor by quitting Glee and picking up this nasty habit. And this loner act… Quinn, the club misses you." She hesitated before whispering, "I missed you."

"You had your chance," Q said, as she had before. But there was a lot less power than there had been the first time, her cruel façade wavering under the steady, warm look the diva was giving her. "I told you, this summer…"

"I know. And I've been thinking a lot about it, Quinn… And I want you, too. I would very much like to be your friend. Your girlfriend. I care about you, so much. I always have." The words had surprise shaping her features, hazel eyes flickering between darker brown. "And it wasn't until last month that I realized… what those feelings were. Why I had them. Quinn…" She stepped closer and her scent surrounded the newly rebellious Fabray, overwhelming her and making her dizzy. "Can you kiss me again?"

And without even thinking about it, Q Fabray did not rebel, and instead did as she was asked. Her lips fell against Rachel's in a much softer kiss from before, a low groan vibrating in her throat as she tightened her grip on the brunette's hands. It drew out, Q's heart beating in her chest with something close to emotion again. It deepened and the girl's body thrummed with energy, as if Rachel's body fueled her own. There was so much here, she realized, that she hadn't wanted to find. Those fireworks she'd once lied about having with Finn exploded now behind her eyelids, lit up her world. Rachel pulled away after a minute, both of them breathless and wrapped around one another (when had that happened?). They stared at one another, breaths mingling, eyes locked.

"If we're going to do that again, Quinn," Rachel whispered at last, "Then you're going to have to stop inhaling those things. You kind of taste like an ashtray."

Q fumbled in her pocket until she found the pack, tossed it far away before dragging Rachel against her again, whirling to press her back into the wall. "Deal," she said before she dipped her head and claimed Rachel's mouth again.

Maybe He was still listening to her after all.


End file.
